


Reparations

by piperset



Series: Tomorrow [1]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: CJ is overworked but she's trying, F/M, Original Male Character - Freeform, Romantic Fluff, This takes place after Institutional Memory but before Tomorrow, i love these guys so much, making an effort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperset/pseuds/piperset
Summary: Alternatively: the day after "Institutional Memory."
Relationships: Danny Concannon/C. J. Cregg
Series: Tomorrow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177340
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Reparations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elflordsmistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elflordsmistress/gifts).



> This will be the first in a series of one-offs (or maybe more than one-offs?) detailing the development of CJ and Danny's relationship post-Bartlet. For reference, "Reparations" picks up a few hours after the events of my piece "Everything Else."

**Danny’s Apartment**

**Adams Morgan, Washington DC**

**Early January, 2007**

Danny Concannon had always been a light sleeper, and that quality had only grown more pronounced once he started spending nights with CJ. Indeed, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than a few hours of rest, but he knew it had to have been before the election. 

The truth was that every night spent laying next to CJ felt like a time bomb. The wait for the inevitable explosion of her alarm was like a felon’s wait on death row, and in those dark, desperate hours, Danny could barely bring himself to close his eyes. There was an innate need to exist in the maximum number of moments with CJ that permeated his psyche, and every second spent sleeping was a waste. 

Even tonight, after their exhausting heart-to-heart, Danny couldn’t get himself to relax. His mind was retracing the conversation they’d had earlier, wondering how the hell he’d managed to de-escalate the situation. He _had_ gotten to her, though; it had been evident in both her words and the way she’d touched him afterwards. Nonetheless, he was having difficulty letting go of CJ’s silhouette, which he could just make out in the blackness. Every cell in his body begged him to close his eyes, but he kept them trained on her, determined to reassure himself that she really was there.

It was only when CJ’s cell phone let out a jarring ringtone, jolting him back to consciousness, when Danny realized he’d fallen asleep. He heard her groan as the sound ripped through the silent apartment, its resonance magnified by the stillness of the air. CJ turned in bed to answer the call, and Danny cast a quick glance over at the clock on his bedside table: _4:26am_. That was a new low.

CJ was speaking anxiously and quietly into the phone. 

“Yes. Right.” She swallowed. “Okay.” She paused to listen, and Danny could sense how tense she was. After a few seconds, her voice dropped to an astonished whisper. _“You mean they’ve already passed Karagandy?”_

Danny couldn’t make out what was being said on the other line, but he could only assume it lay in the ominous domain of the White House Situation Room. CJ nodded a few more times, finishing with a quick “give me forty five minutes” before shutting her phone and collapsing defeatedly onto the bed. She cocked her head sideways, turning to Danny.

_“Hey.”_

“Hey.”

“I have to go.”

“Right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She sighed. “It’s happened a few times before. It never fails to suck.”

Danny groggily reached out his hand and interlocked it with hers. “Can’t blame the Joint Chiefs for wanting to wish you good morning.”

CJ groaned again. “Oh god, that reminds me. This is state business. You didn’t hear any of that.”

“Understood.”

Seeing he wasn’t making any move to get up, CJ leaned down to kiss him gently before dragging herself out of bed. He grimaced when she turned the light on in the bathroom, and the sound of the shower turning on was as deafening as an Air Force One takeoff. She emerged ten minutes later with wet hair, donning the suit she’d worn the day before. 

“Shit. I know how bad this looks, Danny.”

“You look beautiful.”

“I’m not talking about my appearance.”

“I know.” 

“This is one of those times when it’s a Chief of Staff thing and not a me thing.”

“You don’t have to tell me that," he reminded her softly.

Danny couldn't make out her expression, but he knew she was relieved by the way her shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Great.” She shook her head suddenly, as if brushing off an intrusive thought. “Gotta go make my date with Nancy McNally.” She sat on the side of the bed as she slipped on her shoes. Before she left: 

“CJ?” Danny ventured.

“Yes?”

“I’ll text you.” He phrased it almost like a question.

She looked back at him, disoriented by the early hour. Danny could tell she’d already begun the shift into Chief of Staff mode. “Right,” she said, almost distractedly. “See you later.” She cast him one more glance before exiting the room.

\---

Despite having nothing to do with foreign policy, Danny also had a rather involved day planned for himself. He’d been dropping hints about quitting to his editor at the _Post_ for weeks, but today they were meeting to officially discuss ending his contract. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but then again, he hadn’t had a lot of those recently. 

On a lighter note, his sister Catherine was in town, and he was looking forward to catching up with her that night. He’d been hoping CJ would be able to come meet her, but he recalled her mentioning something about finalizing the budget the day before. Ah, well. He was no stranger to waiting. _Two weeks_ , he told himself, before he let his heart sink too low. 

Danny’s morning passed in a blur. His apartment still smelled like CJ, which distracted him a bit as he got ready -- he found he didn’t mind it, though. Another reminder that she was real didn’t hurt. 

He debated sending CJ a joking message about the Kazakhstan situation before he left, but his good sense won out. Instead, he opted for a more gentlemanly _Say hi to Gail for me. And piss off an old white republican, will ya?_

If he and CJ were going to have a real relationship, it was just as well she learned to put up with him. 

Although it was freezing outside, Danny savored his walk to work. He wasn’t usually one for romanticizing the bastardized mess that was Washington DC, but there was something entrancing about the way the morning sunlight hit the Adams Morgan brownstones. He wondered if CJ liked that part of DC too, and whether she’d want to stay after inauguration. 

He had just passed Dupont circle when his phone buzzed twice in his pocket. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw a notification reading “Incoming: two messages from CJ Cregg,” and he quickly opened it. The first text read: _Gail was glad to hear from you._ A second, sent moments later, said: _And Matthew Santos isn’t old, white, or a republican, but I’m definitely gonna piss him off when I refuse his job offer in half an hour._

Danny grinned. Hollis Foundation, it was. 

The first half of his day at the _Post_ went smoothly. It was relatively quiet in the bullpen -- most of Danny’s closest colleagues were either abroad or assigned to their beats. He spent the majority of the morning polishing up a profile on Congresswoman-elect Kendra Richman, a newcomer from Delaware. It was a pretty easy assignment, and he knew his editors had given it to him as an afterthought, but he’d liked Richman, and wanted the piece to do her justice. As sweeping as Danny’s senioritis was, he couldn’t deny that he was still a perfectionist at heart. 

The meeting with his boss came, and Danny laid it out on the table best he could. Tom Mayview was in no way surprised at his resignation, but the old man was obviously disappointed. After half an hour spent working out the details of the termination, Tom leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

“So, Concannon, I’ve got you for two more weeks. What’ll it be after?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Trying to smoke out potential competition?”

“Nah,” Tom laughed, his voice a bit hoarse from a 40-year cigarette habit. “I’ve known you for way too long, Danny. I’m curious about what you’ve got planned.”

As much as Danny appreciated the sentiment, he was never going to be able to explain to Tom why he was ending a twenty-year reporting career. Tom Mayview was a relic from the golden days of journalism; he dealt in paper and ink and other tangible things. The nuances of Danny’s current situation were far too abstract, even for Danny himself, to make plain.

“I’m open to a lot of options, actually,” he said eventually. “People have reached out to me about book deals, which are exciting, but I’m not really tied to anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, that all sounds pretty boring.” Tom was looking at him pointedly. “Listen, kid. This might sound random, but have you ever considered teaching?”

Danny blanched. “I haven’t,” he responded truthfully.

“Well, I’m not one to push you in any direction, but something tells me you might have a knack for it.” He paused. “And I’m sure any college you want will take you. You’re a hot ticket, as it happens.” He grinned, and Danny willed himself to keep a straight face. 

“Right. Thanks, Tom. I’ll consider it.” He stood up, trying to ignore the fact that Tom Mayview had just called him _kid_. “I should really get finished with that Richman piece.”

Tom was nodding. “Have it in by tonight. Just because you’re a celebrity around here doesn’t mean you get to miss deadlines.”

Danny laughed. “Sure thing, boss.”

“See you ‘round, Danny.”

As he walked back to his office, Danny prepared himself to mentally re-examine the conversation he’d just had, as he often did after his run-ins with Tom. What he hadn’t prepared himself for, though, was the sight of a certain White House Chief of Staff sitting cross-legged on his desk, looking him straight in the eyes.

Danny stood frozen in the doorway for a few moments, the synapses in his brain not connecting. CJ was in _his_ office? Normally it was the other way around. After his brain started working again:

“How’d the staff let _you_ in here?”

CJ raised an eyebrow. “They like me.”

_She was stealing his lines, too?_

“The secret service agents help, I guess,” she added nonchalantly. Danny glanced around, and sure enough, four men in dark suits were stationed at different corners of the bullpen. How had he not noticed them before?

Danny was at a bit of a loss. He was really, really glad to see her, but the whole “sitting on his desk with her legs exposed” thing was distracting him a bit. He gathered his bearings.

“CJ, aren’t you supposed to be doing other things right now? Like, I don’t know, stopping Russia from invading Kazakhstan?”

“I had Margaret clear forty minutes in my schedule. I thought we could give yesterday’s lunch date a redo.”

She bit her lip nervously, and Danny’s heart swelled in his chest. He could barely believe it. Not only had she wanted to see him, _she’d taken the initiative to come do it_. Before he knew it, he was smiling like an idiot. “Give Margaret my thanks. I’ll grab my coat.”

\---

Ten minutes later, CJ and Danny were sitting at a picnic table in Franklin Square, bundled up against the cold and very much enjoying a pair of hot dogs they’d snagged from a food truck down the street. CJ was giving a dramatic retelling of her eventful morning, and Danny was a captive audience.

“...so I’m outside Santos’s office, I mean I am _waiting outside the President-elect’s office_ , and I make eye contact with Sam through the window.” CJ shook her head in disbelief. “But he’s just getting _grilled_ by Santos, who can’t even see that I’m there, right? And suddenly I look around and think to myself: I’m the goddamn Chief of Staff. I quite literally _run the place_. _Who the hell am I waiting for_?”

Danny roared with laughter. CJ was grinning, and she punched his arm playfully. 

“ _Quit it_ , will you? Let me finish.”

“Okay, okay.”

“But anyway, I’m standing there, thinking that there _must_ be something better for me to be doing. So I cross the street and head back to my office to talk to Margaret. Only, she’s just cancelled my meeting with the guy from OMB because she thought I was with Santos.”

“So you decided to give work the slip and come hang out with me?”

“You should really be thanking the President-elect. If he weren’t being so weird about this whole job thing, I’d probably be in his office now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a bit pissed that he blew off the most important woman in Washington.”

“Aww, does someone have a crush?”

Danny bit into his hot dog. “Something’s different with you today. Did they do something to you in the sit room?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, doofus.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You were pretty out of it this morning.”

“Well, who would have expected _that_ , Danny? It was 4:30am.”

Danny lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Right. Listen, I know I’m not supposed to ask about that, but did everything turn out okay?” He made a vague gesture.

CJ sighed. “If you’re asking about what I think you’re asking about, I really can’t go into specifics.” She paused, considering. “But don’t worry too much. We’re not gonna have a nuclear war or anything.”

“Fair enough. I guess if it was that bad, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Good point.”

“I really am glad you are, though.”

CJ smiled sincerely. God, she was radiant. “I am too.”

Danny’s heart did a little dance in his chest. CJ bit her lip – an emotional tell he’d picked up on – and Danny knew she’d been mentally rehearsing what to say next. 

“You know, Danny – I know we can’t talk our way out of everything.” She paused, reconsidering. “Well, maybe _you_ can. But I'm not as good at it as you.”

“Don’t worry. You’re getting better.”

She smiled ruefully. “Thank you. Seriously, it’s a mystery, how you’ve put up with me.”

Danny reached out and took her gloved hand in his, considering it an appropriate response. CJ gave it a gentle squeeze before continuing. 

“And I don’t want today to be all about yesterday. But I think it has to be, at least a little.”

Danny nodded, giving her space to collect her thoughts. 

“I _want_ to tell you that I wasn’t in the best place. And that’s true, I mean, I definitely _wasn’t_.” She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “But just saying that would be avoiding the issue. It would be avoiding the issue, and that issue is bigger than the last week, or the last few months, or the last ten years.”

“Hey, we don’t have to unpack it all right now. We’ve got time.”

“I _know_ , Danny, and believe me, that’s – that’s _great_. It’s overwhelming and exciting and something I definitely need to jump into with you at some point.” She blinked a few times, clearing the sunlight from her eyes. “But until we do, I hope you know that I’m _sorry_ , and I’m grateful.” She kissed him on the cheek, and Danny couldn’t help being reminded of the first time she’d done that, right before the madness of the Mendoza confirmation.

“I’m grateful too,” he said softly. 

All in all, they hadn’t gotten more than twenty-five minutes together. Danny walked back alone to his perch at the _Post_ , finished up the Richman story, and tried to avoid feeling like he didn’t belong there anymore. After work, he tidied up his apartment before meeting his sister in town for drinks. He held back from telling Catherine the details of the situation with CJ, and instead listened intently to her as she told him all about the city planning job she’d gotten in Grand Rapids. Later that night, Danny mulled over the things Tom had said to him earlier about teaching, even going so far as to do a bit of preliminary job searching. There were some openings on the west coast that looked promising, but that would require a whole other conversation.

And just before midnight, after opening his door to CJ’s tired face, he lay down as she made love to him. She was so gentle and tender he was almost brought to tears.

Afterwards, they lay in bed together for a while, not saying much. The room smelled of sweat and closeness and the feeling of a whisper against one’s neck, and Danny’d just about resigned himself to another sleepless night when he felt his eyelids begin to droop. Before he knew it, the lines defining CJ’s silhouette grew blurred, and his breath became slow and steady. Just before he slipped under the tide of unconsciousness, he remarked to himself that, as it turned out, the day had managed to sneak in one more surprise after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to elflordsmistress for moral support and inspiration!


End file.
